


Feeling the Heat

by dracusfyre



Series: Tony Stark Bingo Challenge [19]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, POV Bucky Barnes, Semi-Public Sex, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracusfyre/pseuds/dracusfyre
Summary: James Barnes, former Winter Soldier and current hot mess, is trying to gather the courage to make a move on the maybe hot mess but definitely hot Tony Stark.  An undercover mission gone awry gives him the chance he was looking for, albeit not in the form he expected.Spiritual sequel toIn From the Coldbut it can be read as a standalone.  I'm also using this for my Tony Stark Bingo Square A3: Free Square.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the [ImagineTonyandBucky](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/) prompt: _Height diference ,Size kink Tony is just so short, fits everywhere and always looks up to James as if being kneeling, so James really can't stand being in a room with him wihout getting horny (sic)_

            James would like for the record to state that if it wasn’t for Tony’s goddamn eyelashes, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He wanted to feel them on his lips when he kissed the laugh lines at the corner of Tony's eyes and he wanted to feel them brush his skin as Tony fell asleep on his chest.  Tony’s warm brown eyes were already arresting enough without the thick fringe, the way they sparkled with amusement even when Tony wasn’t smiling or how they would go sharp and distant when he was deep in thought.  But the kicker, what really got to James the most, was the way that Tony would sometimes glance up at him through those thick eyelashes when they talked.  

            Tony was short, yeah; whenever Tony stood next to him, it always surprised him that Tony only came up to his chin because honestly, Tony had so much _presence_ that it made him seem taller.  But Clint was the same height, and so was Bruce, and neither of them made James feel tongue tied and gave him the butterflies that Tony did. _Ridiculous._

            So after much thought, James decided to blame the eyelashes. Weeks of study had revealed that there was a sweet spot where James could stand, far enough that Tony wouldn’t have to lift his chin but close enough that he did have to look up, that would almost always lead to at least one such glance. James had planned assassinations with less effort than conversations with Tony.

            He sighed.

            But if he were honest, it probably wasn’t just the eyelashes.  Tony could be next to him in the elevator and James would think about picking him up and how Tony could wrap his legs around his waist and that would bring Tony’s generous mouth level with James’s and that’s when he would have to derail his own train of thought lest he embarrass himself. On the bad days he fantasized about pulling Tony into a hug, wondering if he would fit right under his chin like it seemed like he would.  He also wanted to tuck Tony into bed and aggressively big spoon him every time Tony ghosted around the place late at night with that sad, haunted look in his eyes.  He knew Tony was strong and capable and that the Iron Man suit could take far more damage than James could in his best body armor, but he still daydreamed about being able to stand in front of Tony and protect him.  To let this mangled body save a life instead of only having memories of taking them.

            “Whatcha thinking about?” 

            James jumped when Tony appeared right at his elbow. Tony frowned and moved his cup out of harm’s way when James almost spilled his coffee.  “Jeez, jumpy much?” Then with apparently a death wish he poked the century’s most prolific assassin in the side. “What’s got you so on edge?”

            Predictably, James’s brain froze when presented with a conversational ambush, especially when he saw that Tony was wearing a tank top and low-slung jeans that revealed a tempting line of skin at his hips.  There was a smudge of grease on the back of the hand holding the coffee cup, a red line around his eyes from where he had been wearing goggles, and his hair was sticking in all directions like someone had been ruffling their hands through it. 

            For a quick, sharp moment James wanted him so much that his chest ached.  Swallowing around the tightness in his throat, he finally noticed that Tony was looking at him expectantly. He pulled his thoughts away from Tony's eyelashes and realized he'd been asked a question. “Just tired,” James mumbled and got up to go back to his room, afraid his thoughts would show on his face.  He so mortified that he didn’t even notice the way Tony’s eyes followed him as he left.

\---------------------

            _Jab._ _Jab. Roundhouse. Elbow. Jab. Jab. Uppercut. Knee._

            James let himself fall into the rhythm of his workout, the world narrowing to just him and the thud of impact as he hit the punching bag.  Behind him, Steve was on the souped-up treadmill Tony had designed for them, his strides a quick counterpoint to James’s strikes.  After thirty minutes they would switch, then lift weights, then spar, trying as ever to reach muscle exhaustion before boredom set in.  The best days were when Tony would put on a suit and spar with them outside, but he had too many demands on his time to be able to do it more than once every other week or so.

            Which was probably for the best, considering that after _those_ sparring sessions, the leftover adrenaline and endorphins gave James a hard-on that just wouldn’t quit.  He would invariably spend the next few hours masturbating until his dick got chafed to fantasies of peeling Tony out of his suit and bending him over one of his work tables, or maybe having Tony ride him on the back of one of his motorbikes.

            James dragged his thoughts away from that and tried to focus on his work-out, getting back into his rhythm until the loud smack of a hand hitting a practice mat broke his concentration; looking up, he realized that on the other side of the gym Tony was getting a martial arts lesson from Natasha. He quickly forced his eyes away and back to the bag, because Tony was wearing another tank top and his biceps were almost as bad as his eyelashes.  Plus, he was also wearing those thin workout pants that always clung to his ass when he started sweating and that shit was _not fair._

            _Jab. Jab. Jab. Elbow._ _Cross. Jab. Hook._  

            Steve tapped him on the shoulder and gestured towards the treadmill.  As he cranked up the speed, James tried to get back into the exercising mindset but his concentration was shot. Sometimes when he was tired and high on endorphins, he could have a normal conversation with Tony instead of being the tense, wound-up wreck he usually was.  Now, however, all he could think about was pinning Tony to the mat, both of them sweaty and breathing hard, and Tony looking up at him through those goddamn eyelashes-

            He tripped on the treadmill and had to grab the sides before he fell.

            “Careful, Buck,” Steve said with a small smile, as if he knew what James had been thinking about.  “If you bite it on a treadmill, Sam will never let you live it down.”

            “Yeah, yeah,” James muttered.  “Everyone’s a fucking comedian.”

\---------------------

             A week or so later, James found himself wide awake at three in the morning, something that happened with enough regularity that he knew that he wouldn't be going back to sleep any time soon.  With a resigned sigh he climbed out of bed and started wandering through the compound, checking that all was well while he waited to get tired enough to go back to sleep.

            To his surprise, he saw a light coming from the kitchen; approaching quietly, he smiled to himself when he saw Tony staring blearily into the fridge.  He was barefoot but still wearing the clothes from earlier, his fancy dress shirt pulled free of his pants and sleeves shoved messily up to his elbows.  James gave himself a minute to watch fondly as Tony went on his tiptoes to search through the top shelf of the fridge before he cleared his throat and came closer.

            “Wha- oh, hey James,” Tony said, squinting at him from around the light of the fridge. “What’re you doing up?”

            “Couldn’t sleep.  You?”

            “Got tied up in paperwork and now I’m hungry.” Looking over his shoulder, James realized Tony’s problem; there was a bunch of food in the fridge, but it all needed to be cooked, and while Tony _could_ cook, he was an indifferent chef at best.  He would inevitably get impatient and turn up the burners to make everything cook faster, then wince his way gamely through his burnt meal and live off smoothies for the next few days.

            James gently hipchecked him out of in front of the fridge and gestured for him to sit.  “I’ll make you something.”  He knew Tony was tired because he went without argument, claiming a seat at the bar and propping his head up on his fist as he watched James pulling eggs out of the fridge. “Omelet or scrambled?”

            “Oh.” Tony perked up at that. “Omelet.”

            As James chopped vegetables for the omelet, he was acutely aware of Tony’s eyes on him, feeling his gaze like the heat of the fire; despite that, though, the silence in the kitchen felt companionable rather than awkward.

            “What were you working on?” James said as the eggs started to sizzle.

            “Budget forecasts,” Tony answered with a yawn.  “It’s that time of year, so.  I’ll be at it for the next few days.”

            James made a face.  “I thought you had people for that?” He gently sidled the spatula under the egg to fold it over without breaking it and plated it, sliding it across the bar to Tony.

            “I do,” Tony said shortly as he started to eat. 

            It took James a moment to realize why Tony wouldn’t trust anyone else to approve Stark Industries’ budget. “Oh. Right.”

            Tony shrugged, like _yeah, I was betrayed by an old family friend and now I have trust issues, what do you do._ “This is amazing,” he said, gesturing at the omelet with his fork. Tony’s eyes softened from their tiredness and he smiled, making James go hot all over. “Thank you.”

            James felt his face get warm and turned away from Tony to put the dishes in the dishwasher.  “No problem,” he mumbled.  James knew it was time to make his escape when he was tempted to drape himself like a blanket over the tired slump of Tony’s shoulders and press a kiss to his messy hair, so he said something about getting some sleep and fled.

\---------------------

             “No, it hasn’t happened yet, but it will, I swear,” Tony said into his phone as he bounded up the stairs leading to the shared living room.  From his half-hidden position next to a giant ficus tree, James took the chance to look his fill before Tony noticed him.  Today he was wearing a burgundy dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his forearms and a vest; his collar was unbuttoned and the small vee of skin showing there, the divot at the base of Tony’s throat, made James die a little.  “Why do you care so much? Is there a betting pool? Do you have money on this? Because if so I want in.” As he listened to whoever was on the phone – probably Colonel Rhodes, judging from the way Tony was grinning at whatever he was saying – he was searching the couches and coffee tables.

            James looked guiltily at Tony’s tablet on the table next to him, which he had used earlier instead of going all the way back to his room for his own.  Discretely, he cleared the browser history and cleared his throat to get Tony’s attention, waving the tablet at him.

            “Hold on a second,” Tony said into his phone then tucked it under his arm as he took the tablet.  “Thanks, Terminator.  How are you doing today?”

            James shrugged, barely able to look at Tony straight on.  “Not bad.  Had therapy this morning.”  The therapist had said that his infatuation with Tony was good, that it was a sign that he was emotionally ready for a relationship, and encouraged him to make a move.  James had stared at her like she was speaking Ancient Greek.  “Going to watch a movie with Steve and Sam this afternoon.”

            “Oh, yeah?” Tony grinned.  “Which movie?”

            “The one about the giant shark.”

            Tony made a thoughtful noise.  “The dinosaur one is better.  You and I should go see that one sometime.”

            Now James was staring at Tony like he was speaking Ancient Greek. “Oh…kay?”

            “Good.”  With another blinding grin, Tony put his phone up to his ear.  “Alright, I’m back, Rhodey.  I have my tablet, what was it that you wanted me to look at?”

 ***

            “He said we should go see a movie together,” James said. “What does that _mean?”_

            Natasha shrugged and didn’t look up from painting her toenails. “That he wants to see a movie with you?”

            “But is it a _date?_ Did he ask me out on a date?”  Is this what a heart attack felt like? James felt the need to lay down, so he slid out of the chair and laid down on the floor to stare at the ceiling.

            “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him.”  She laughed when James said something uncomplimentary in Russian. “I think it’s a good idea though. You would be good for him.”

            “How?” He asked, spreading his hands wide. “I’m a fucking basket case.”

            “Bold of you to assume we aren’t all basket cases,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “But you’re a mother hen, it’s in your nature to take care of people.  And Tony has a bad habit of running himself into the ground if he thinks it’s for a good cause, so if anyone could use a mother hen it’s him.”

            James was speechless. “ _Mother hen?_ ” he repeated incredulously, turning his head to look at her.

            “You heard me.” Natasha straightened and admired her toes then started on the other foot. 

            James grunted and watched her careful strokes with the tiny paintbrush as he thought about what she'd said.  What's the worst that could happen? He couldn't imagine Tony being cruel about turning him down if he wasn't interested.  And if he wasn't, Bucky could track down the nearest Hydra base, wipe his own memory, and move to Mongolia. "Ok," he said finally.  "Sure.  I'll ask him out on a date."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for the ITAB prompt _Not-yet-in-a-relationship Tony and James have to pretend to have noisy sex in a closet or something to throw off suspicion on a mission. All that loud moaning gets them a little hot and bothered..._

            James did not, in fact, ask Tony out on a date. 

            Turned out getting the man alone, without any possible witnesses to his embarrassment, was hard to do when you were trying to be subtle about it.  James made dinner and took it down to Tony's lab, only to find Clint down there going over his latest bow redesign.  The next day, he was in meetings with Pepper almost all day long.  By the third day, James found himself reduced to scowling in his chair by the ficus tree and trying to figure out how to kidnap Tony without getting killed in the effort. 

            So when Steve announced that they had a mission, James wasn't even surprised.  While Steve talked about some missing Wakandan vibranium, James slouched in his seat, fiddling with the file folder in front of him.  It was an undercover mission at an arms expo so Tony would be taking point; Steve would send Natasha with him and probably Clint as backup and James would get to sit here at the compound and let everyone else have fun without him.  Natasha would probably dress in revealing clothing to distract the marks and pretend to be Tony's arm candy, laughing at his jokes and leaning her head against his shoulder - 

            James shook his head and tried to dismiss his thoughts, realizing that he was clenching jaw tightly enough to give him a headache.  With a sigh he rolled his shoulders and popped his neck and tried to concentrate on the briefing. 

            “So why us instead of the Wakandans?” Clint asked, twirling a pen between his fingers. 

            “T’Challa was afraid they’d stand out more because the people selling the vibranium would be looking for them.  Besides, he said we could keep a portion of what we recover, so.” Tony spread his hands. “He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.  Shuri has been showing me a lot of better applications for it besides melting it into a giant dinner plate and calling it a shield. No offense, Steve.”

            “None taken,” he said.  “It works equally well as either.”

            Tony pulled a hexagonal device from his pocket. “They even gave us this nifty gadget that works a bit like a reverse tuning fork by vibrating when we are near the vibranium.”

            “Wouldn’t a reverse tuning fork be a _de_ tuning fork?”

            James rolled his eyes at Clint’s question as Tony frowned.  “It’s a _tuned_ fork,” James muttered at the table when the two started arguing. “Instead of it vibrating the thing, the thing vibrates it.”

            Somehow Tony heard him even though he was mid-sentence.  His head turned, eyes wide with delight as a smile bloomed.  “This guy gets it,” he said, tossing the device across the table towards him.  “So are you ready to be my backup on this?”

            “Me?” James’s brow furrowed as he turned the Wakandan tech over in his hands. “I thought…” His eyes went to Natasha as he trailed off.

            She raised her eyebrow and gestured eloquently. “Not me, this time.  Apparently this whole thing is a sausage party, no girls allowed.”

            “Believe me, it frustrates Pepper to no end,” Tony said, making a face. “Though if the only thing wrong with these expos was rampant sexism, the world would probably be a much better place.  If you think you're up for it, Steve and I agreed that you would go as my bodyguard.”

            “Cuz he looks big, dumb, and surly?” Sam asked with an innocent look on his face.  James scratched an itch on his nose with his middle finger.

            “Well, with the right amount of stubble and no coffee, he would look like I’m the only thing keeping him from several life sentences, which is something these guys respect.  No offense, James.”

            “None taken,” James said.  “It’s pretty much true.” Tony made a face at that like he wanted to argue, so James continued, “You think you can get these guys to believe that you’re interested in buying black market vibranium, since you’re, you know,” James gestured around the table.

            “A superhero?  Guess we’ll see, won’t we?  But I don’t have to talk them into selling to me, I just have to hope that they’re keeping the vibranium close by. If not, Nat and Clint will be searching the rooms of the most likely suspects.”

            After that, James sat up a little straighter and made an effort to pay more attention as they went over details.  When Steve dismissed them and everyone stood, Tony put a hand on James's arm to keep him from leaving, effectively derailing every train of thought James had as his whole body focused on Tony's hand.  James’ heart had already been pounding but his stomach dropped as he noticed that Tony looked nervous.

            “Look, James, I wanted to clear this with you before we get there.” Tony cleared his throat, clearly trying to find the words for what he was trying to say.  

            “Okay...?” James said when Tony was silent for a while. 

            Tony blew out a breath and finally met James's eyes.  “Look, the Winter Soldier has a certain, you know...reputation, especially among the people that we’ll be around.  I think it would go a long way towards selling this particular mission if people got the impression that…um…”

            James relaxed at that, letting out a long breath. “That the Winter Soldier had a new handler?” James finished. “It’s fine, that’s a good idea.”

            Tony’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Are you sure? I don’t want to-”

            “It’s fine,” James repeated with emphasis. “I mean, all I gotta do is what, flash a bit of metal and sound Russian, right?”

            “Pretty much. If you have a chance, I can show you the new gear I’ve been working on for you.” 

            James had to bite his lip to keep from grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. New gear _and_ he was going on a mission with Tony.  Better than a movie date by far.

\-----------------

            “Ready, Terminator?” Tony asked, handing over a pair of sunglasses he’d made to replace James’ old ballistic goggles.

            James quirked a smile as he put them on.  “Who the hell is ‘Terminator’?” he said with a thick Russian accent. With his hair pulled back and his sunglasses on, he looked like just another vaguely Slavic muscle man, except for the fact that the sleeve on his coat didn’t quite meet his glove, leaving a gleam of distinctive silver metal.

            “Perfect,” Tony grinned. His hair was gelled and perfectly styled and his suit expensively tailored; as he slid his own rose-colored sunglasses on, the rich playboy mask slid into place.  “Showtime.” He squeezed James’ knee before he climbed out of the car, making James’ brain short-circuit for a moment before he got out as well.

            James didn’t realize how much unconscious effort he put into looking non-threatening around the Avenger’s compound until now; slipping into the state of heightened awareness and moving as if he were constantly ready for combat was like putting on comfortable clothes.  As he stalked around the arms show, Tony’s menacing shadow, he watched with satisfaction as people gave them a wide berth, even that aggravating tit Justin Hammer.

            “I’m not looking for the stuff that’s hard to get,” Tony was saying impatiently to a vendor. He had taken his sunglasses off and was using them to gesture at the man’s samples. “I’m looking for the stuff you _can’t_ get.  There’s a new player on the scene and I don’t like being second best, understand?”

            “No one does, Mr. Stark, but I’m afraid this is all I have,” the vendor insisted.

            “Well then I guess you’re not the man people say you are.” Tony put his sunglasses back on and snapped his fingers at James. “Let’s go.”

            “I think he was telling the truth,” James said under his breath when they were far enough away.

             "Yeah, me too," Tony said. "One more possibility then we'll have to figure something else out."

            James grunted his assent and matched his strides to Tony's shorter ones as they navigated the maze of vendors. As much as James liked a successful mission, he would be perfectly content following Tony around for a few more hours.  With him in his combat boots and Tony in loafers, he felt strong and capable, in his element for the first time in a while, and with his sunglasses on he could stare at Tony as much as he wanted without getting caught.

            In short, this was the best day James had had in a long time.  

\------------------

            "Well, that didn't go as planned," Tony panted as they sprinted through the convention center.  He glanced over his shoulder, but the theft of the vibranium currently hidden in a bag banging against James' back must not have been noticed yet.  

            James didn't answer as he ran,  mind racing as he tried to find an escape route that would result in the least amount of confrontation and potential injuries. While Tony had brought a suit, it was currently in the trunk of the car on the other side of the compound and James didn't want an unarmored Tony in the same _zip code_ if bullets started flying.  "Over here," he said, spotting a utilities closet up ahead. The door was locked, but breaking the locking mechanism was quick work, and James hustled Tony inside right as he started hearing voices down the hallway.

            "So what's the plan?" Tony whispered.  James' eyes adjusted quickly to the dark of the closet, lit only by the faint strip of light coming from around the door.  The door blocked the voices he'd heard, but James was going to guess that the vendor had finally realized his vibranium was missing.

            "We can't be found with the vibranium," James answered.  He didn't need to spell it out; he could see that Tony was making the same calculations James had. Burning every contact Tony had in the weapons dealing community would be the least of the consequences of discovery.  "What's the carrying capacity of Sam's drone?"  he asked, hefting the bag of vibranium thoughtfully. "I think this is about fifty pounds."

            Tony already had his phone out texting Steve.  "If he ditches the armaments it should be able to carry it."  Now they just had to evade discovery long enough for them to get to Redwing, or Redwing to get to them. When he was done, Tony gave him a short nod, and James' hand was on the doorknob when they heard it.

            Footsteps, coming their way.  _Find it,_ in Swahili.

            James stiffened as the footsteps came closer, one hand still holding the door closed while the other was reaching for the pistol at the small of his back.  Shifting his weight, he calculated that he could take this guy out and draw pursuit away from Tony long enough to-

            From behind him, Tony moaned, voice low and wrecked, "Oh God, yes."

            The footsteps stopped and a wave of heat prickled under James’s skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.  It felt like his heart skipped a beat before it started racing.  He slowly turned around to stare incredulously at Tony, and when he moaned again, this time from deep in his chest, James had the irreverent thought that for some reason Tony wanted him to fight their way out with a  _raging boner_.  

            “Just go with it,” Tony hissed, voice barely audible as he gestured towards the door and the men standing on the other side of it.  That's when James finally realized what Tony was trying to do, and to his dismay, it was actually a good plan.

            So James squeezed his eyes shut - no way he could look Tony in the eyes while he did this - and said, “Yeah, you like that, don’t you sweetheart,” pitching his voice deep and velvety. 

            There was a sharp inhale. "Fuck yes," Tony said hoarsely.  "Do it again."  When Tony let out another spine-melting, pornographic moan, James would have given up twenty years of his life to know what Tony was thinking about.  His hands twitched and his lips tingled with the visceral need to touch Tony, to taste the intoxicating sounds coming from him.

            “You just hold on to me and let me make you feel good, baby,” he murmured.  "You gotta be quiet though. You don't want everyone to know what we're doing in here, do you?" Despite the highly distracting pressure of his cock in his pants, James was deeply aware that the eavesdropping bastards were still on the other side of the door.  Apparently he was going to be tortured for a little while longer. He couldn’t help but imagine what the listener thought they were doing; maybe James was fingering him, coaxing those mind-melting sounds out of him. Or maybe James was on his knees, worshiping Tony’s cock.  His mouth watered at the thought.  

            The next noises Tony made, a hitched breath and some desperate gasps, sounded muffled, like there was a hand over his mouth.  James' knees went weak at the mental image of him pinning Tony against the wall, mouth covering his as he thrust-

            Finally the men outside muttered a slur that James didn't feel needed repeating and the footsteps receded.  With a long exhale of relief, he pressed the heel of his hand to his cock, trying to get his erection to go away through sheer force of will.

            “Well that was a close call."

            James blinked, thinking for a moment that Tony had noticed how close he’d been to coming in his pants. "Yeah," he said roughly.  He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and cleared his throat. "Good, um, thinking.  Did Sam get back to you?"

            "Yeah. Redwing will meet us when we find a place we can get to a window or something."  James nodded, needing a few more moments to compose himself.  He could feel his face burning and was grateful for the dim light of the closet.  After a moment, he felt a hand on his arm, turning him to face Tony.  "Are you okay?"

            "I'm fine," he said, trying to sound fine instead of like he'd just gone through the most intensely arousing few minutes of his life. 

            After a moment, Tony nodded, looking thoughtful.  "Is the coast clear?"

            James cracked the closet door, but all of his enhanced senses said that they were alone.  "Yeah.  Let's go."

 

            Thankfully, the rest of the mission  _did_ go to plan - Sam was able to extract the bag of vibranium without being spotted, and Tony and James were allowed to walk out of the expo.  James thought that he would be relieved once they got back to the car and were driving away, but Tony kept  _looking_ at him, and the look in his eyes was making James restless.  During the drive and even the debrief Tony was uncharacteristically quiet and distracted, which made James' stomach sink with obscure dread.  He fled to his room as soon as Steve dismissed them, anxiety suddenly a humming tension under his skin. 

            But Tony was right on his heels, practically jogging to keep up with James' strides.  "James! Slow down, we need to talk."

            "Why?" James finally slowed when he got to his door.  "It's fine, the mission was successful, there's nothing-"

            “James. Darling. Look at me."  James blew out a long breath and forced himself to meet Tony's eyes. "I gotta clear something up. See this?" Tony said, gesturing to his face. “This is how I talk to Steve.”  Tony’s features were open and pleasant, listening attentively.  “But this is how I talk to you.”  He leaned in slightly, his head tilting and eyelids lowering so he could look at James through his eyelashes, and there it was, James’s favorite look. Which, he had to admit now that Tony was trying to make a point, looked a lot like Tony was giving him the bedroom eyes.  “Everyone has been giving me shit for it for weeks, to the point where I was starting to think you weren’t actually interested.  But then you always made up excuses to talk to me, so I kept trying.  To the point that Steve even gave me the shovel talk.”  James scowled as Tony made his voice low and stern. “’Be careful, Tony, he’s still vulnerable. He’s been through a lot, Tony, and he might not be ready for a relationship.’”

            “Goddammit, Steve,” James growled.

            Tony waved his words away.  "That's not the point. The point is, are you going to make a move or not? Because if you're not, then  _I'm_ gonna-"

            “Can I kiss you?” 

            Tony paused, then tension drained out of his shoulders and a smile bloomed. “ _Please_ , for the love of God-”

            James cut off the rest of his words by pressing his lips to Tony’s. At first, the kiss was awkward, a mashing together of mouths, but after a moment Tony tilted his head and his mouth softened. When James’s tongue ran along the seam of his lips they opened with a soft groan, and the taste of his mouth was everything James thought it would be.  After a moment, he pulled back.  "Tony, would you like to go on a date with me?" he asked. 

            "Absolutely. As soon as possible. But first," Tony said as he dug his phone out of his pocket,  "kiss me again, I wanna take a picture.  I've got a betting pool to win."         


	3. Chapter 3

                James scowled thoughtfully at Tony over the top of his computer.  They’d had three dates now but they hadn’t gotten any farther than some enthusiastic necking on the couch; not that he was complaining, _per se,_ because getting to put his hands and mouth all over Tony was more than he’d imagined he would get a month ago, but…he wanted more, goddammit. 

                So maybe he was complaining.  But he didn’t know how to take the next step.  In his admittedly less than perfect memory, he remembered dancing and flirting and kissing and going all the way with some ladies before the war, but all of those memories were tinged with the feeling like he was getting away with something scandalous.  He didn’t want scandalous with Tony.  At least, not any more scandalous than just being with another man was, though he understood that people didn’t mind that so much these days.  So did he push for more? What if Tony wasn’t ready? Was three dates enough to want more? Or was James being impatient because he’d already spent so much time fantasizing about Tony?

                Across from him, Tony continued humming under his breath, hand flying over the paper as he sketched something that looked like it might have been new stingers for Natasha, apparently oblivious to James’s frustration.  James drummed his fingers on his computer and after a moment, opened up the internet.   Making sure that his screen was angled away from Tony, he typed, “How To Seduce a Man.”

                He got halfway through the first result – Cosmo’s “How to Get Your Man and Keep Him” before he had to leave the page.  The next page wasn’t much better – James’s eyes narrowed as he tried to imagine how he would look in makeup and sexy lingerie and snorted softly to himself.  Not his thing.  _But what if it was Tony’s?_  James thought uncertainly.  He looked up at Tony again and then decided to shelve the thought for later. Much later.  

                On a whim, realizing that this whole endeavor was a little silly, he deleted “a man” and typed “Tony Stark.”  A bunch of pictures came up, pictures of Tony in various stages of disarray and looking much younger.   But near the bottom of the screen was a suspiciously specific link, “Five Ways to Get Iron Man in Your Bed, Plus One Way You Got Into His.”  Clicking on it, James realized that it was a story; probably not a true story, he figured, but entertaining nonetheless.   It was written to make the reader feel like they were part of the story, which was pretty neat; James had never seen something like that before.  

                Ten minutes into reading it, however, James suddenly realized where it was going and he shut the lid to his laptop sharply, face aflame.

                The sound and the sudden movement caught Tony’s attention. “What’s up, Terminator? Find something scary on the internet?” he asked, glancing up from what he’d been sketching.

                “Nothing, I’m just… hungry,” James improvised.  “Do you want anything?”

                Tony gestured to a half-eaten bagel beside him, only to realize it had gone stale and hard a long time ago.  “Sure,” he said.  “If you’re getting something.”

 

                A few days later, they had another date. Another sweet, romantic, intoxicating date that left James restless with unresolved sexual frustration.   Throwing himself down on the bed, he smoothed his hand over the top of his laptop, torn, before he growled “What the hell, why not?” and opened up the website that he’d been reading before.

                By the fifth date, James had a much richer fantasy life about Tony than he’d had before.  People on the internet were _inventive._   He had started making a wish list for when or if he ever got Tony naked.

                By the sixth date, James was desperate enough to get Ideas.

***

                “Man, its cold in here,” Tony said suddenly, and James had to hide his satisfied grin. He held open his blanket in invitation for Tony to cuddle next to him for warmth, but instead Tony went over to the thermostat.  “Odd, someone turned the temperature way down.” He tapped the screen a couple of times.  “There. Be right back, I’m going to get a sweater until it warms up in here.”

                “Goddammit,” James said to the empty room.  It had been worth a shot.

***

                That weekend, Tony got called to an emergency meeting at Stark Industries’ headquarters in LA, and with nothing better to do, James jumped at the chance to fly with him.  Private planes meant no metal detectors and better food and oh, hey, would you look at that.

                “Oh, no” James said.  “There’s only one bed in here.”

                “You can have it,” Tony said absently, already pulling his laptop out of his briefcase. “I’m not tired, and I’ve got a lot of work to do before I get there.”

                James sighed with resignation and fell face first onto the bed.

***

                Enough being coy, James decided.  He looked at the clock and kicked off the covers, throwing the pillows around the room, and with a little guilt, ripped a hole in his mattress.  Then he padded quietly to Tony’s room and knocked softly, opening the door when he heard a mumbled “what?” from inside.

                “My bed was destroyed,” James said, trying to sound rueful and/or regretful. “Can I sleep here?”

                “Nightmare?” Tony said sympathetically, jaw cracking on a yawn. “Sure.”  He moved over and grabbed a pillow from the foot of the bed for James.   Once he was under the covers and comfortable, James kept very still, wondering what was supposed to happen next.  Then he heard Tony’s breathing level out into sleep, slow and steady, and James inched closer, trying not to wake him up.  It felt like a gift, Tony trusting him enough to fall asleep next to him, and as James held on to the warm feeling in his chest he fell asleep as well.

 

                Well, it didn’t happen like it did in the stories – James woke up on his side of the bed, and Tony was still on his, but watching Tony go from asleep to awake was a reward in and of itself.  James could hear his breathing change, and his heart speed up, then he stretch with a long groan that ended on a deep exhale, almost a sigh.  He cracked an eyelid, and when he saw James next to him the smile on his face was like sunrise.

                “Morning, Terminator,” Tony said, features still soft with sleep. 

                James reached out to trace a line on Tony’s face left by a wrinkle in his pillow and blurted, “Do you want to have sex with me?”

                Tony didn’t look surprised. With a half-smile and raised eyebrow he said, “Right now?”

                James ran a tongue over his teeth and checked in with his bladder. “Maybe not right _now_.  Just…in general.”

                That made Tony laugh, but as he did he moved closer and curled himself against James’s body, tucking his head under James’s chin, and sex or no sex, James could have died happy in that moment.  “Of course I do, James.  But have you ever had sex with a man before?”

                James gently wrapped his metal arm around Tony to hold him close as he thought.  “Only some quick, terrified handjobs during the war,” he said.

                “Yeah, that’s kinda what I thought,” Tony said.  “I’ve been trying to let you set the pace, I figured you would say something when you were ready to take the next step.”

                That made James’s brow furrow.  He pulled back so he could look Tony in the eyes. “ _Me?_ ” he said skeptically. “I was ready to take the next step three dates ago.”

                “Yeah?” Tony leaned up on his elbow.  “Wait, is that why you’ve been acting so odd?”

                James winced. He’d hoped Tony hadn’t noticed. “Yeah, probably.”

                “I see.  Well in that case, how do you feel about a shower?” Tony asked, rolling over James to get out of bed. For a breathtaking moment James had a squirming lapful of mostly naked Tony and then he was gone.

                “Ok.  You first?” James asked, trying not to sound disappointed as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.

                There was the sound of water running and then Tony, already naked, came back to fist a hand in James’s undershirt, dragging him towards the bathroom.   “Why waste the water?” he asked philosophically.


End file.
